


laugh until our ribs get tough

by soleven



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, I don't even know where I was going with this one but, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, tw: obscene amount of commas and run on sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleven/pseuds/soleven
Summary: if u didn't listen to ribs in 2014 and picture yourself being a rowdy invincible teenager running through the streets of your hometown at 2am..... idk what to tell u dude.at first I imagined this /scene/ to take place sometime in March 2017 but then I realized Even technically hadn’t made up w the balloon squad by then so this actually occurs during [redacted].
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	laugh until our ribs get tough

They’re at a party.

They’re at a party and Chris is pouring shots, Mutta is cranking the volume on a 2008 Soulja Boy song, Isak is tucked into his side on the couch, and Even feels better than he has in a long time.

The buzzing of parties used to be something he craved, something that sparked electricity in his veins and made him feel like the protagonist in some shitty American coming-of-age movie.  _ This is what it means to be a teenager on fire _ , he would think.  _ I’m invincible _ . But he wasn’t invincible. After third year (round 1), he just couldn’t go to parties anymore. The noise and lights and crowds were overwhelming; it made his skin itch and his mind race and was just too much. Trading the anxiety of being on display for his love of escapism that parties offered was an easy choice to make. Sonja was never really one for ragers anyways, and it’s not like he was hanging out with the boys anytime soon. It became something he could ignore.    
But Isak. Isak likes parties. He likes to shotgun beer and tell loud jokes and generally just be a complete idiot with his friends. Speaking of.

_ Six-seven-eight-triple 9-eight-two-one-twooooo.  _ Even turns his head only to be met with the man in question rapping the lyrics to Kiss Me Thru the Phone at him and wow, he’s never going to get tired of this feeling. His heart is literally busting a nut. Isak stands up and leans over him, gesturing wildly as he sings along.

_ Baby, you know that I miss you _

_ I wanna get with you _

_ But I cannot baby boy and that’s the issue _

_ Boy you know I miss you  
_ _  
_ _ I just wanna kiss you  
_ _  
_ _ But I can’t right now so baby kiss me thru the phoneeeee _

Even is dipping backwards into the couch with how hard he’s laughing and he can see Isak’s about to break face soon too, but the boys are egging him on and they’ve actually amassed a small crowd at this point so Isak keeps going until the song ends and he can finally wipe his forehead, take a bow, and collapse down next to Even.

“How did you know the way to my heart is through being serenaded with Soulja Boy?” Even asks, tongue curving up to meet his canines in a cocky grin.

“Easy. I figured if this dude gets fired up from me texting him Napoleon Dynamite memes, shitty 2000s pop is the obvious next step in seduction.”  
  
“Shitty? Seduction?”

“What, you don’t feel seduced right now?”  
  
“Do I look seduced right now?”  
  
Isak scrutinizes him and Even levels him back with a Look™. Of course, that’s when Magnus interrupts.

“Oi! Boys! Mahdi found a huge skateboard out back, who’s coming?”

Isak shoots him a shit-eating grin and before he knows it, Even’s being dragged to the back porch of some second-year Nissen kid’s house to check out a skateboard.

There’s something about stepping out into the cool March air that sobers you up a bit, but in all honesty Even wasn’t really that drunk anyways. He is kind of fucking cold though, because it’s -4 degrees out and all he has on is a flimsy flannel, so he plasters himself to Isak’s back to absorb all his warmth and is he dating a human furnace or what? He already has a pretty solid mental association between Isak and the sun but  _ Jesus  _ does this kid radiate heat. Isak just hums a little and lifts his arms to clasp Even’s cold wrists in a loose grip. He wonders if Isak can feel his pulse. The soft scars. The electricity in his veins.

Even’s been tuned out for a minute but he thinks Magnus, Mahdi, Jonas, Mutta and Mikael are currently arguing amongst themselves over who’ll get to test out the skateboard first. Isak cuts them off.

“Hey, idiots. Why don’t we go two at a time?”  
  
“What do you even mean, bro.” Jonas asks.  
  
Isak just sighs and rolls his eyes. “Watch and learn.” He peels Even’s arms off him (met with protest) and selects Mahdi as his unlucky victim. Isak pulls Mahdi over to the board and against all odds, they both manage to squeeze on together. The drunk cheering is only challenged by the fit of laughter they peel into when Mahdi loses his balance and nearly topples off.

Even fondly watches them try to coordinate a system for propulsion. So far they’ve decided that Isak will push from the back while Mahdi tries to steer. Promising in theory, horribly ineffective in reality.  
  
“Isak, you’re going too fast.” Mahdi whines.  
  
“That’s what she said,” someone chimes in. Isak groans.  
  
“Mahdi, trust me, yeah? This isn’t exactly a half-pipe we’re navigating.”  
  
“I don’t think you realize how small this deck is though?”  
  
“Maybe it’s because someone is a shitty driver-”

Then Mahdi shoves Isak a little and Isak shoves Mahdi a little and eventually they’re both on their asses, doubled over laughing. Isak, head tipped back and hair bouncing and the most beautiful sound Even’s ever heard pouring out of his mouth. If you could bottle up a moment.

Even feels alive. Maybe not so invincible, anymore. But real and grounded. The fantasies he used to play out have settled into something different. Escapism isn't of any use to him when the only place he wants to be is right here. Watching his friends and Isak bicker about how many people they can fit on a skateboard at 1am on a clammy Saturday night, bathed in moonlight and the reflection of pink strobes from inside. It doesn’t give him that same addicting buzz, but more of a soft warm glow instead. Something raw and delicate and tangible. 

Isak looks at Even, smiling, and starts pulling off his hoodie to throw to him because he knows he gets cold. Even’s learning to like parties again.


End file.
